


Love Unspoken

by JoyisaBike



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, F/F, Harry Potter(minor), I went through a massive phase of being in love with Narcissa, Infidelity, Narcissa gets shit done, Pining, Women Loving Women, bisexuals!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyisaBike/pseuds/JoyisaBike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years before the war, Narcissa Malfoy had an affair with Lily Evans. How does she react when her lover dies? This is a short character study which diverts from canon. Also, please excuse the bad title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first fanfictions so please be gentle with me! Un-betaed.

She knew. Had thought she knew anyway. That she wasn't the only one. Didn't care, or rather pretended not to. Besides, ties weren't really her thing; it was easier with no strings, no attachments. Being the other woman. Better by far than being the wife (although she was one), or in this case the husband. Husbands. It was what she always told herself. And it had been damn satisfying to have the redhead there, screaming and moaning (because, well, most Gryffindors were screamers when you got right down to it). Hoarsely begging for a release that she could only find here, now, with another woman.  
Narcissa liked to tease. Liked to lick her skin, which tasted sweet and salty all at the same time. Liked to curl her hands in her pubic hair (also red, darker). Liked to draw things out as long as she could.  
How many other women were there? She had just assumed there were other women, because she had other women. If they wrapped around each other afterwards, it was because she was tired and Lily was always warm. Because Lily had a softness to her that Lucius, fond as she was of him, did not. Nothing more.

  
When Narcissa heard they were dead she didn't say anything, didn't cry. Held herself together and attended to her son. Intended to find more lovers, in order to fill the gap (there had been that other redhead in Gryffindor, hadn't there?).  
Then the letter arrived. It was simple, plain. Her writing. Narcissa opened it in private.

_Nar_  
(and she was the only one who had ever called her that, who called her Nar. Short and clumsy sounding.)

_If you're reading this I am dead, and James is too. I do love him, James I mean._ (Her perfect forehead had crinkled) _But I love you too. Always. I know you had others, I know that's just the way you do things. It's okay._  
 _I never thought of you as "other". Just Nar. My Nar-not Lady Malfoy or Narcissa or Cissy. Nar. Mine._  
 _I don't know if you love me. You're so good at hiding things._ (she had regretted it then) _I hope you care some-I know you never bought into that pureblood bullshit._  
 _Protect my son. Please. I've done everything, everything I can. I fear Dumbledore is going to do something stupid and I won't have my son's life dictated to him by some bastard who only cares for the greater good. He's my son._  
 _If you can't love him, then at least try to make sure he's with someone good. Someone who'll care for him. For me, Nar._  
 _I can't offer you anything in return-you know we Gryffindors are no good at deals._  
 _My Love_  
 _Always_  
 _Lily_

Her hands had trembled, there in the immaculate drawing room. She had sat, heavily, remembering every touch and kiss. Every hissed word and impassioned argument. The way Lily's eyes had burnt the first time Narcissa ripped off her shirt. She felt a hole open inside her, gaping. Love unspoken. Narcissa sat a long time. Then she had stood, regal. Made some floo calls. Spoke to her husband in soft, convincing tones. Pulled strings.  
Two weeks later, the raven haired infant moved into their home. Lucius did not ask why his wife loved Harry as much as she loved Draco. Perhaps he knew. Besides, the child was a delight and it was good for their son to have company.

  
Narcissa found other lovers. Beautiful women, ugly women. Some of them even made her smile. There was a letter that she kept on her, always. Lucius understood, and said nothing because that was how they had always functioned. He grew to love both their boys. Narcissa was proud of the pair of them, enjoyed the challenges they brought and loved them almost more than she could bear. Even if she did have to have Harry's coarse Godfather in her life.  
And the pain melted away in tiny pieces, year by year. Until one day she woke up in large, handsome arms, was greeted in husky French by the enormous woman in her bed, and realised that loving Lily was something she could do while loving someone else as well. Olympe did not leave the bed for several days, and neither did Narcissa. The blonde mused, as she relaxed against the skin of her lover, that if this was going to be long term, she would need some reinforcing charms on her bed. And she smiled, relishing whatever might come next.


End file.
